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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2008.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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First Night And Daddy's Portman
by Retrowank (address withheld)

***

A girl confides the chances she took to meet her crush 
Mitch, and the price she pays to the party gang and her 
step-dad. (MF-teens, nc, inc, 1st, intr, preg?)

***

I was so afraid I'd been knocked up last Saturday. 

I sneaked out of the house at 11, when mom and my step-
dad were drunk (as usual). It was breezy and really 
warm outside for this time of year, so I wore my short 
baby-blue skirt and my white tank top that pulls up on 
my lil' tits. Two years ago, I was stuffing them with 
tissue. Now they can fill a champagne glass.

Checking myself out before I left, I kept thinking what 
four or maybe five or six of my friends in class have 
said - that I look like a blue-eyed Natalie Portman! I 
was feeling really self-confident, and this was going 
to be the night I approached Mitch. He's varsity 
quarterback, and I'm sure he could have any girl he 
wants, and who the heck am I (as IF!) But I got this 
invite to his house, and heard his parents were out of 
town, and it's only a block away, and it was like no 
WAY am I gonna miss this.

Turns out the place is PACKED! I mean, folks in line to 
get in the house, kegs being opened in his garage, 
police in for noise control. Wow! It made Mitch seem 
more impossible to reach, but I had to have hope and 
faith that he'd be my soul-mate if he got to know me.

To build my confidence a little, I'd taken some dry gin 
from my step-dad's cabinet. I meant to sip it, but 
halfway to Mitch's house, it had fallen out of my shirt 
twice, and I was worried I'd get caught with it. I 
didn't want to throw it out, so it made sense just to 
'prime the pump' and drink it all before I got there.

Like, fire! This stuff burned a hole in my throat. But 
it felt real warm in my tummy, like it was burning and 
working down there. In a couple minutes I finished the 
flask, and I had started jogging a little faster to 
Mitch's. By the time I was there, my tank top was just 
a little bit sweaty, and I untucked it from my blue 
skirt.

The line to get into Mitch's house was crazy long. I 
waited for a few minutes, and started to feel a buzz 
warming in my head and down my back. I thought, his 
house is kinda like my mom and dad's house, maybe it's 
got a laundry room with access to the house from the 
garage. I headed there.

The music was pounding, it was like his windows would 
break. I went around the garage, and it was closed, but 
I saw some people at the side of the house and thought 
maybe I could get in his backyard from there. Wow, I 
thought how popular and how cool he was, it was like 
meeting a rock star or something with how hard to get 
in there!

Around the side smelled like weed, and there were a lot 
of black guys there. Mitch is not a racist at all, one 
of the things I think I would like about him if I can 
get to know him. It's like he can hang out with the 
black guys or the white guys on the football team with 
total ease. I thought, I'll bet they got a way in 
there, and if not at least I can get Mitch to know how 
cool I am if I know some of the same back kids as him.

A skinny guy with dreds started talking to me 
immediately, asking if I wanted some toke. I smiled and 
felt kinda cool to be the only white girl over here in 
the shadowy part of the yard. I kept smiling and 
rolling my eyes in this way that says I'm totally 
familiar and above all this (!P) to make him think I'm 
cool.

Down the garage I could see an open window, to a 
bedroom I thought. About this time, though, I was 
starting to feel the burn in my tummy growing over the 
top of my head, like, towards my eyeballs. The gin I 
mean. I was feeling really cloudy and burny.

I realized I totally forgot to remember the name of 
this dude who was talking to me. Had I even asked his 
name? Shit! Then to make matters worse, I realized he 
was like talking and I wasn't event listening to him. 
So I said 'yes'. Figured I'd catch up or equivocate 
later.

But he just fucking grabs me by the crotch! Right under 
my blue skirt! Perv!

I caught a slap across his dreadlock face and was 
starting to run back to the front lawn, but he was 
saying, "Hey, dear, hey dear, come back here." He was 
kinda tugging at the back of my skirt. I knew I could 
run to the yard, and that gave me confidence, to show I 
wasn't racial or something. Like, I was just drawing a 
line at a guy's thumb on my clit before I know his 
name, even if it's through panties. C'mon.

I told him I was Mitch's friend, even if that's not 
exactly true yet, to show him I was cool but important. 

I was kinda feeling an even warmer buzz now.

Then this black kid starts saying Mitch's name a lot, 
and talking so fast. And to make a long story short I 
got over to the side of the house, with his help. He 
was offering me some pot, and I was saying no, so he 
was giving his friends' liquor bottles to me and I 
swigged a bit and then he got me over to the house. I 
asked if Mitch was around there in the room, he said, 
"Shit yeah!" and said Mitch was right there in the 
bedroom.

At this point my memory isn't too great.

What I remember is cool dread dude pushing me up into 
the window, his hand on my ass, pushing me up over the 
window ledge. But then, like, he was holding me by the 
crotch. Very grabby. And that as I went over the window 
sill, into the bedroom, that he was holding tight on 
the crotch of my panties. And basically, I think he 
finger fucked me and pulled off my panties, but that I 
was definitely feeling drunk.

Ok, what I know, for sure, besides that I was now 
drunk, is that I fell into the bedroom onto a twin bed, 
and that it was really, real bright light in there, and 
I was closing my eyes. The room was kind of spinning, 
and it was real bright. The music was atrociously loud.

I have trouble talking now about what happened then.

I know I lost my virginity. There was this big, very 
dark, very strong-looking black guy who had really huge 
hands, I remember, his hands were roughly combing over 
my body, grasping my breasts. I was slapping his hands 
away, or trying to, I remember, but my panties were 
gone, I guess Dread-head Tyrone had pulled them off 
while I was falling up over the window sill and into 
the room.

Next three sensations. First this giant hand on my 
throat, choking my air off. I grabbed the wrist, and it 
felt like it was moving off my throat, but I still 
couldn't breathe so I guess not. The second was a huge, 
strong, long, angry dick fucking its way through my 
hymen. Hard. I think I remember screaming.

I was aware of the room spinning, I was aware of the 
strong black chest against my chin and mouth, I was 
aware of a spearing thread of flesh slidy shooting in 
and out of my cunt. I was deflowered. I was a trophy. I 
was a slidy whore cunt. I started to have this weird 
feeling, like I had an orgasm coming, but two minutes 
away. It was like I could see it coming over the 
horizon or something.

"Don't cum in me," I said. "Don't cum up inside me," I 
said, trying to be more clear, what with his hand on my 
throat. "Please, please get outta my cunnie," I 
drawled.

I just remember that I hoped my 2 minute orgasm would 
get here before he splashed his cum up in my vagina. 
Such a stupid priority. But that doesn't mean I wasn't 
trying to fight and push him off me. I totally was. The 
room was just all spinny.

I tried to focus. I was in a brightly lit room, a 
bedroom, on a twin bed, just under the window I'd 
fallen out of. And it was like I'd fallen onto a big, 
big fuck plate for this broad shouldered black 
stranger.

There were several guys in the room, though. And on the 
twin bed to my right, I saw a naked chick, this red 
haired, thin, long haired, light skinned, freckled 
girl. And Mitch was over her, fucking her with his 
prick!

I started mumbling, I know I was totally drunk. Don't 
cum in her, I think I was trying to say. Pretty 
pathetic, with my hips all tuned in to the forceful 
fuck of a lifetime I was getting from this strong black 
stranger.

It was much later when I woke up. The room wasn't 
spinning but my stomach felt awful. And my cunt felt 
burny-hurty.

I kind of remember Mitch, his face up slow. Yelling at 
me and humping his dick in me.

And this other guy, I don't remember his name. I just 
remember waking up to a hard pinchy feeling in my cunt, 
cause he was really big. Kind of fat, I think. But I 
don't remember.

So, now why I said, "Crap!" 

I can't remember all what happened at Mitch's. I think 
I had sex with Mitch, but I was all blubbery. I clearly 
had too much to drink, and there were way too many guys 
at the party. When I came home, I was sore, I was 
drippy, and I was very, very afraid. I am way too young 
to get pregnant.

I was an idiot.

I was a fucking slut, a nobody, an idiot loser!

I felt this awful, scary, pinchy fear in my gut. And 
the worst part of it was my step-dad. 

He is kind of scary. I mean, he's conservative, a 
leader in church, and someone who watches over me like 
an angel. But I have this uneasy feeling about how 
often he describes me as looking just like my mom.

He'd kill me, I thought, as I was slogging my way home.

He always talks about how he had a horrendous crush on 
Mom when he was a senior and she was a frosh. How he 
was following her, praying for her, like I imagine him 
worshipping her gorgeous ass and legs and little tits. 
He says he remembers vividly how he'd stare at no one 
but her in the cheerleader field. How he always knew 
he'd be with her, and how afraid he was for her when 
she got knocked up pregnant before she could graduate.

The guy who did it, my real dad, no one talks about. I 
don't know him. My step-daddy is the only one who 
stepped up to take care of my mom, to nurture and 
provide.

And the way he looks at me makes me feel like an ice 
cream cone. There, I said it. He has these hungry eyes 
all the time. And it's like a total contradiction, his 
lusty face and his sinner-beware attitude.

I didn't know how I'd deal with it coming home. God, I 
was so afraid I'd be pregnant.

Pregnant!

The more I thought about the night at Mitch's, the 
sicker I felt inside. The scared feeling of knowing 
that a big black guy had pounded his wad of cum in me. 
I think two or three others did, and I think one was 
Mitch but I couldn't say. 

Worst of all, now I know the bright lights in there 
were for a camera. I remember a white blond guy was 
filming Mitch humping that unconscious red-headed girl. 
I'm sure they filmed me too.

Shit, internet broadcast of my slutty virgin rape. 
Great. As if I could call it rape, really. It made me 
wonder what happened to mom. She never really talked 
about it, and I kind of had the feeling she was a rape 
victim, but maybe it was something more subtle. 
Something like this.

Somewhere, deep in my fog, it seemed like a good idea. 
Or at least, it seemed like a better idea than letting 
him find out I was fucked and pregnant. I kept thinking 
of my step-dad at the table, seeing me as I came in, as 
he always does.

I tied my tank-top up high over my belly button. I 
rolled the skirt up a half an inch more...

It's like I had this plan that my body didn't know or 
wasn't consulted about. When I walked, or stumbled side 
to side, into the kitchen of my house, I knew I was 
drunk and caught, and before I could translate, he was 
totally yelling.

Afraid he'd wake mom, I crawled up his body to stop his 
yelly face. And I kissed him, and yes, I tongued him.

Step-daddy stayed perfectly still for about thirty 
seconds, while I kissed and sucked his lower lip. Then 
he grabbed me, by the shoulders of my shirt. He pushed 
me a little bit into the hall, to my room, and threw me 
on the bed.

He called me by my mom's name.

I was trying to get out from under him, protesting my 
innocence I guess.

He had his hand up my skirt, pushing it up again over 
my belly, and then pretty soon he was scooting my 
underwear to sideways. I felt his warm. Soft dick, 
rubbing against my thigh and then my inner thy, and my 
tummy. God, when he came, he shot his long hard thin 
pole up into me. I mumbled, but couldn't brave myself 
to say 'don't cum' because the alternative was the 
black kid. I didn't know whose baby I was going to 
have, and I was frozen in panic. Dad even tried to pull 
out, I think, but I rode him. Drunk and high and wet, I 
ploughed onto him. He was trying to stand up at first 
but then he fell down on me and fucked me harder than 
he'd ever done anything in his life.

He said mommy's name again, "Cindy." 

I said, "Don't cum daddy." While I said it, I felt a 
warm, salty, pulsy feeling along the tender, ticklish 
roof of my vagina. It made me cum too.

I was kind of thinking, he'd never know who was the 
dad, and he'd never be able to sell anything. He was 
now under my control.

But the thing is, I got my period ten days ago. I 
wasn't knocked up.

But daddy thinks I was. 

And he's knocking. He's knocking at the door now. And I 
already have been taking his new $100/week salary.

Crap.

I'm fertile, it's Friday night, mom's unconscious 
drunk, and he's at the door. It's true, I look like a 
blue eyed Natalie Portman. I'm looking at myself on my 
bathroom closet mirror now. And I hear him fumbling 
with the lock. 

At least, I have this flask.

I'm fucked.

END

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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 54